


Lights Will Guide You Home

by LB0917



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Breakup, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26793310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LB0917/pseuds/LB0917
Summary: Mitch can't stand to see Scott in pain.
Relationships: Mitch Grassi/Scott Hoying
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	1. When You Try Your Best, But You Don't Succeed

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Scott and Mitch, nor do I hope that any of this actually happens to these precious babies. :)

To say that Scott was tired was an understatement. Have you ever felt like your feet were stuck in mud? Each step he took was painfully difficult. He dragged himself up the stairs and was met with warm brown eyes under a cocked eyebrow.

“Welcome home,” Mitch said, nonchalantly. He crossed his arms over his chest. Scott could feel the judgement.

“Thanks,” Scott muttered and walked past his friend and roommate. He wasn’t in the mood for this.

“Who was it this time?” Mitch asked as he followed. Scott’s evident fatigue and sadness was irritating Mitch more with every passing moment. Why was he doing this to himself?

“None of your business,” Scott replied, monotonously. It was meant to have a bite to it, but he didn’t have the energy.

Mitch sighed and Scott turned to look at him. Scott’s eyes were red, and underneath them were black and blue circles which had slowly darkened over the past several days. Mitch was convinced that if he were to press on the skin there, Scott would flinch as if he were bruised.

“Can I ask when the last time you slept was, at least?” Mitch asked with an edge to his voice. Scott knew that this meant he was skating on thin ice with his friend. He would have to appease him if he wanted to be left alone any time soon.

“I got some sleep last night, don’t worry,” he replied. The look on Mitch’s face indicated that he knew this was a lie. Before he could respond, Scott had shut the bathroom door and the shower turned on.

Mitch slid down the wall beside the bathroom door and put his head in his hands. He wanted to scream. His best friend was quickly spiraling, and it was terrifying to watch. Scott was strong. Scott was sweet. Scott was beautiful. Scott wasn’t… this. This was a shell of a person. This was a stranger. This wasn’t the man that Mitch grew up with. 

Scott was his anchor. He was the voice of reason. The amount of times that Mitch relied on Scott to pick up the pieces of his broken heart was almost comical to think about. Hell, he had just cried in Scott’s arms for 48 hours straight not three weeks ago. They didn’t move from the couch for what seemed like eternity, with Mitch sobbing into Scott’s chest, clutching him for dear life. The sweatshirt that Scott had given him to wear came down to his knees and was definitely ruined with the remnants of Mitch’s tears and snot. But Scott didn’t care. He held on to Mitch for dear life, stroking his hair and whispering how stupid Beau was and how perfect Mitch is. Mitch fit perfectly there, resting against the tall blond. He felt safe. Part of him felt as though Scott saved his life in those moments.

This was frustrating. Mitch always allowed himself to be so vulnerable with him. Why couldn’t Scott do the same? He had always been like this. He would hide his hurt, when they were dropped from their label, when he broke up with Alex, when he had his fight with Toddrick. Mitch could see his pain, but he couldn’t figure out how to break down the wall that separated them.

Mitch’s mind turned to Mark. This was all his fault. Mitch could feel his face turning red with anger. They had welcomed him with open arms into their family. He had been convinced he would be the Best Man in Scott and Mark’s wedding. That thought always sent a small shockwave of pain through his heart, but he always overlooked it.

Scott and Mitch hadn’t lived together in a few years. When they had become serious with their respective partners, they bought their own homes in LA. They weren’t terribly far from one another, but they certainly weren’t close enough in Mitch’s opinion. In Beau’s opinion, Scott could never be far enough away. Beau’s distaste for Scott became more and more evident as their relationship progressed. Mitch was never able to put his finger on the problem. When he would ask, Beau would become frustrated and say things like, “He’s just… too much. Drop it.”

That should have been his red flag to leave.

**_One week earlier…_ **

_Mitch could hear the rain rapping against the windows. He hated being alone during storms. The thought of the power going out made him wrap his cardigan tightly around his middle and shiver. Tea. Tea was a good idea…_

_His jumped when his doorbell rang. Who in their right mind would be out in this weather? Abandoning his tea kettle, he went to the door and looked through the window. He couldn’t open the door fast enough when he saw who was on the other side._

 _"_ _Are you out of your mind? You’re going to get killed out there!” he exclaimed as he pulled his best friend through the door. Scott’s clothes were soaked through and he was shivering. His eyes were bloodshot. He remained quiet. Mitch began to panic._

 _"_ _Let me get you something to change into. I’ll get you some towels. And some tea. Or coffee? You should probably take a hot shower. I have more blankets in the other room…” He rambled and scurried back and forth from his kitchen to the living room where he had haphazardly thrown Scott on the couch._

_Five deep breaths later, Mitch was able to calm himself down and returned with a change of clothes (he tried not to think about the fact that they were Beau’s) and a towel. He took Scott by the hand, led him to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and kissed his silent friend on the cheek before leaving, shutting the door behind him._

_Fifteen minutes later, Scott joined Mitch at the kitchen table, and quietly thanked him for the tea that was clearly meant for him. They sat quietly, the occasional sound of sipping or a teacup hitting the table being the only noise._

_“I caught Mark cheating,” Scott said after several minutes, his eyes blank and distant. Mitch’s face fell. He knew it had to be something to do with Mark, but he was hoping it had been a mutual decision to break up, at least._

_“Idiot.” He couldn’t help himself. His blood was boiling. Scott looked down and Mitch could see tears threatening to fall. He reached out and grabbed his best friend’s hand._

 _"_ _It was Mason. In my own house. They thought I was going to be gone longer, but my meeting was cut short due to the storm coming.” His voice broke with the word “storm”, and so did Mitch’s heart._

_“What did you do?”_

 _"_ _They both looked at me. I froze. I don’t even know how long I stood there. But then I just turned around and left. Next thing I knew I was at your door. I’m sorry.” Tears were running down his cheeks now. It was the only indication that he was crying._

Scott had been at Mitch’s house ever since. They had taken some of Scott’s things from his house when they knew Mark wouldn’t be home. Mitch had texted Mark to get out of Scott’s house, but he seemed to be dragging his feet. There was also the fact that he kept trying to call Scott. Mitch had taken Scott’s phone and blocked Mark’s number after a few days. Enough was enough.

Part of Mitch was worried that Scott was going to see Mark during the nights in which he wouldn’t come home. Scott was always quiet when he would return. Hickies scattered over his neck and collar were the only indication of what he had been doing.

The bathroom door opening snapped Mitch back to reality. Scott emerged in sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He looked thinner.

“I’m going to ask you one question and then I will leave you alone if you are honest with me,” Mitch said as he stood up. Scott faced him, quietly waiting.

“Is it Mark?”

Scott let out a dry laugh. It sounded foreign. It was hollow. Angry. “No.”

Scott walked into his bedroom and shut the door, leaving Mitch feeling oddly relieved, and terrified at the same time that his friend was becoming more and more distant each time he left.

**Please leave me feedback. This is new to me!!**


	2. Chapter 2: When You Get What You Want, But Not What You Need

_AN: Thanks so much for the reads and the kudos! Please keep them coming. Feedback is always helpful!_

**  
Chapter 2: When You Get What You Want, But Not What You Need**

It was 2pm when Scott could be heard moving throughout the house again. Mitch put down his magazine and went to the fridge. When Scott entered, Mitch turned around with his Starbucks order in hand.

Scott smirked. Mitch’s heart jumped. “Thanks, Mitchy,” he said, softly. Mitch’s heart jumped again at the use of the nickname.

“Anything for you,” Mitch replied. “Want to watch a movie?” Mitch knew that the answer was going to be some form of a declination before the words left his mouth. It always was, recently. But he had to try.

“Yeah, okay.” Before Mitch could express his surprise, Scott was halfway to the couch. Afraid that he would change his mind, Mitch followed quickly behind him and settled on the opposite side, each of them curled up with their feet inches from each other.

“What will it be?” They scrolled through the movie selection for a bit, with Mitch quickly scrolling past certain titles, such as  _ He’s Just Not That Into You _ and  _ Unfaithful. _

“How about  _ Toy Story 2?” _ Scott asked with hope in his eyes. Mitch’s heart swelled with fondness and a small laugh escaped his lips. Scott blushed. “Yeah, never mind, that was stupid.”

Mitch could see the wall coming up and frantically began stuttering, “No no, I love that movie. It’s a great choice. You always have great movie ideas, really.” Mitch looked at Scott, as if pleading with him not to leave him again. Scott rested his head on the arm rest and quietly thanked him.

Mitch. Was. An. Ass.

How the hell could he forget about that HORRIBLE scene with Sarah McLachlan BLARING in the background CRYING the most HEARTWRENCHING lyrics to ever grace a Pixar movie? Screw you, Sarah McLachlan. Screw you, “When She Loved Me”. Screw you,  _ Toy Story 2. _

_ When somebody loved me _

_ Everything was beautiful _

_ Every hour spent together _

_ Lives within my heart _

Mitch watched in horror as Scott’s eyes brimmed with tears as the scene began.

_ Through the summer and the fall _

_ We had each other, that was all _

_ Just she and I together _

_ Like it was meant to be _

_ And when she was lonely _

_ I was there to comfort her _

_ And I knew that she loved me _

Mitch thought about all the ways he could cause a diversion. He could fake a choking incident. No, he isn’t eating or drinking anything. The DVD could be irreparably scratched all of a sudden and start skipping. No, they’re watching on Disney +…

_ So the years went by _

_ I stayed the same _

_ But she began to drift away _

_ I was left alone _

_ Still I waited for the day _

_ When she'd say, "I will always love you" _

By the time he had settled on disconnecting the Wifi, Scott had abruptly stood up, muttering about having to use the bathroom.

Dammit.

It took Mitch 15 minutes to realize that he had been staring at the paused screen and Scott hadn’t returned. Walking down the hall, he noticed Scott’s closed bedroom door.

“Scott?” He whispered as he knocked softly. There was no response. He slowly opened the door, ready for a pillow to be hurled in his direction. There was none of that. Instead, he was faced with the view of Scott laying in his bed, faced away from him. Mitch would have thought he was sleeping if it hadn’t been for the soft shaking of his shoulders and sharp intake of breath every few moments.

He wanted to scream at him. He wanted to shake him, to ask, “Where are you? Come back to me.” Knowing that this could break him, instead, he silently crawled into bed behind Scott, wrapping his arms tightly around him. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when a few seconds had passed, and Scott did not flinch or move away.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep, or when they had shifted positions, but when he woke, Scott’s light blue eyes were calmly looking at him. “Hey,” He said, softly. “I’m sorry about that.”

Mitch couldn’t help it. He wrapped his arms tighter around his hurting friend and nuzzled into his neck. “Don’t,” Mitch replied. “Don’t apologize for being in pain.”

“I don’t want to be like this.”

“It kills me to see you like this.”

“I don’t know how to stop.”

“Let me in. Please?”

Looking up, Mitch prayed that his eyes conveyed how dire this was to him. The next few seconds of silence were painful.

“Why am I never enough?”

Mitch’s heart shattered.


	3. Chapter 3: When You Feel So Tired, But You Can't Sleep

“Why am I never enough?” The words echoed in Mitch’s ears as though they were screamed through cave walls. His breath hitched in his throat, and Scott’s eyes welled with tears with the silent reaction. Mitch found himself becoming angry, an emotion that filled him with shame. He couldn’t help it.

“How could you say that?” He asked, his voice becoming thick. Scott looked back at him, confusion written all over his face.

“It always ends with them leaving me.”

“That has nothing to do with your worth.”

“It’s an awfully suspicious pattern.”

“It’s not a pattern, stop it.”

“You left me.”

The floor may as well have opened up underneath them and sucked Mitch right up. It felt as though he had been punched in the chest. He tried to catch his breath. He became more frustrated.

“I did NOT leave you.” His voice wavered and he cursed himself for that. Scott let out that small, cold laugh again. Mitch hated that laugh. That wasn’t Scott’s laugh. That laugh felt cancerous.

“I finally had you, all of those years ago. When you agreed to give us a try, I had never been happier. You gave us all of one month before you realized that you deserved better than me. I get it Mitch. It’s okay,” Scott said as he sat up. “I wouldn’t have lasted a month with myself, so kudos to you, I guess.”

Mitch stood up and all but ran to the door. He shouldn’t be this angry. He shouldn’t be running away. Scott was telling him what was wrong, whether his thoughts were valid or not. They were making progress. It was painful progress, and he couldn’t be more wrong about his memory of their time together, but it was progress, all the same. Mitch simply couldn’t compose himself for long enough to keep it going any further. He had to get out of there. He shut the door behind him and heard a sigh on the other end.

“Exhibit A,” Scott could be heard muttering on the other side of the door. Mitch opened up the flood gates and let the tears fall.

They didn’t talk for the rest of the day. They tiptoed around each other, and it was clear that both men were waiting for the other to leave certain rooms before entering. At dinner time, Mitch heard Scott puttering around the kitchen. He hoped he would hear the fridge, the microwave, anything to indicate that he was eating something. Instead, he heard the faucet run for a moment, the sound of ice hitting his glass, and Scott retreating to his room again.

He stared at the time on his phone. It was 2:13 AM. Mitch hadn’t slept a wink. He had never understood what it meant when people said they ached for someone. He certainly understood it now. He mulled over that thought for a moment. Why was this hurting him so much? Rationalization after rationalization crossed his mind. He settled on the obvious: His best friend was hurting, and Mitch is a good friend.

Becoming frustrated when the time hit 3:01 and sleep hadn’t taken him yet, he groaned and hopped out of bed. He trudged down to Scott’s room and knocked softly. Once again, there was no answer. Mitch hoped that he was finally getting the sleep he needed. Opening the door however, Mitch’s heart broke again for what felt like the tenth time that day.

Scott’s bed was empty.

Mitch wondered how it was possible that his eyes could still produce tears. He had been crying every hour on the hour for the entirety of the day. But here they were again, streaming down his cheeks, his breath hitching as he struggled to stay on his feet. He HURT. He hurt so badly.

Mitch crawled into Scott’s bed and clutched his pillow. It smelled like him. Vanilla and cedar. Mitch didn’t remember dozing off, but sleep took him quickly.

Mitch awoke the next morning to the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. Opening his eyes, they came to rest on the taller man, looking confusedly at him from right inside the doorway. A new, disgusting hickey was painfully obvious on his throat.

“Who was it?” Mitch asked, angrily.

Scott ignored him as he grabbed clothes from his drawer. He turned to leave the room. Mitch sprung up from the bed and blocked his way.

“Who was it, Scott?” They played this game for a minute, with Scott zigging as Mitch zagged, determined to get an answer from him.

“Why won’t you tell me who it is?” Mitch asked, sounding defeated. This seemed to make Scott angrier.

“Which one do you want?” he barked back.

Silence followed. They simply stood there, glaring at one another.

“Paul. That was Monday. Tristan was Wednesday. Last night was Jeremy. Enough information for you, yet?” He snarled these words, his face close to Mitch’s.

“Who are they? Where did you meet them?”

" Out.” Their faces were still so close, they could touch noses. A small lean forward and they could… they could kiss…

Scott’s shoulders suddenly relaxed. His face softened. “When I can’t sleep, I go to the bar. Have a few drinks. Let someone take me home. It’s easier that way. That way, I can be the one to leave.”

“You… you let them…”

Scott looked at the floor, embarrassed.

“They do whatever they want.”

“Why?"

“Because at least they want me.” Soft, gray eyes met Mitch’s. They were haunting. When had they lost their beautiful blue? It was as though they were warning him that Scott had officially broken. Mitch reached up and cupped his cheek.

“I want you.”

**Author's Note: Please, please, please shoot me a comment or some kudos to let me know if I should continue! Comments make me feel warm and fuzzy.**


	4. Stuck in Reverse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: Thank you for the comments and kudos! Ask and you shall receive! Please keep the feedback coming for more!

**Chapter 4: Stuck in Reverse**

Well, that was unexpected.

The words had slipped out of Mitch’s mouth without thinking. That was obvious. But that wasn’t what caught him so off guard.

No, it was Scott pushing past him, rushing down the hallway and out the door without a word. That. That was unexpected.

Mitch clenched his hands into fists. He had never been so frustrated with Scott. They had had their ups and downs, that was certain. But to see Scott like this, a shell of himself, terrified Mitch. Had he taken it too far? Had he just lost Scott for good?

Feeling dejected, Mitch crawled back into his friend’s bed and allowed his soothing scent to take over him. Sleep came quickly once again, but this time it was anything but restful.

Mitch awoke again to darkness. His chest felt empty. His head felt heavy. He sighed and rolled over.

“Sorry,” he grunted as his knee came into contact with a warm body. Wait a second. His eyes snapped open to find Scott laying there, facing him, with a blank look on his face again. He silently thanked any and every God he could think of that Scott was here with him, and not in a random stranger’s bed. The thought of what those people had gotten away with doing to Scott made Mitch nauseous. 

“You’re back.”

“I’m back.”

“I thought you may have left for the night,” the judgement in his tone was tangible. Scott flinched.

“I didn’t know what to do.”

“So you left?”

“Everyone else gets to. Why can’t I, every once in a while?”

Mitch clutched the blond’s face between his hands. He quickly softened his grip when he realized how aggressively he had done so. His thumb rested against Scott’s jawline, running up and down the stubble that lay there. Mitch’s hands were gentle, but his gaze was anything but.

“Why do you feel so unwanted?” His eyes pleaded with Scott.  _ Let me in. Let me in. Please… _

“Can I ask you something?” Scott asked, ignoring Mitch’s question.

Mitch let out an exasperated sigh. “Anything.” Maybe he could lead by example.

“Why _did_ you leave me?”

Anger was boiling within him again. “ _ I never left you, you ass.” That’s probably not the best response… think. He’s fragile. I have to get him to come back to me. I can’t lose him. _

“Scott, if I had left you, I wouldn’t be here with you now,” Mitch replied, a gentleness in his voice that surprised even himself.

“You know what I mean. I guess I’m just trying to wrap my head around why this keeps happening to me. Why Mark… why Alex… I can’t ask them, but I can ask you.” His eyes had never looked so desperate.

“I was scared.”

“Of me?” Scott looked terrified.

“No, no, of course not. I was… I was scared that we were crossing a line that could never be undone. Every step you took towards me, every time you laughed, whenever you looked at me with those eyes, I couldn’t help but think about how hard it would be to let you go. I knew that would only get worse. I had to salvage our friendship. You are the most important person in my life. I had to keep you in it, even if that meant ending things.” Mitch was staring at the ceiling now, attempting to keep his breathing under control. This was the first time he had admitted this, even to himself.

Scott draped an arm over Mitch’s stomach. Immediately Mitch felt butterflies and a sense of what he could only assume was hope.  _ He’s coming back. Just keep going. _

“What about Beau?”

“What about him?”

“You were in love.”

Mitch expected to feel sadness then. Or perhaps anger towards his friend for bringing up his heartache. Instead, he felt the need to keep setting this right. He had to keep being honest.

“I was never in love with Beau.” In that moment, Mitch could swear he saw some flecks of blue return to Scott’s gray eyes.

“He hated me.” Scott said, matter-of-factly. He removed his hand from Mitch’s stomach and rolled onto his back to look at the ceiling as well. Mitch felt cold where Scott’s hand had been.

“He did.” Silence. Then, much to Mitch’s surprise, Scott let out a laugh. Not the cold, foreign laugh that had been plaguing their short conversations lately. It was Scott’s true laugh. It was short and sweet. His mouth formed a small smile that took Mitch’s breath away.

“What’s so funny?” Mitch asked, bemused.

“He did.” Scott repeated Mitch’s words in a comically serious tone. “Way to sugar coat it for me. And why, may I ask, did he hate me so much, anyway?”

Mitch paused for a moment. He had tried not to think about it too much. Now it was all too clear.

“He knew I was in love with you, I think.”

More silence. After a few seconds, Mitch looked over at Scott, cursing the fact that they were in the dark and he couldn’t fully read his face.

“What’s your goal here?”

“What do you mean?”

Scott shifted again, and Mitch prayed he wasn’t getting up to leave. He would never forgive himself if he pushed Scott into someone’s bed again. Scott settled back on his side, with his face propped up in his hand.

“If this is some scheme for me to cheer up, I hope you know how much it’s going to hurt me down the line.”

“I never want to hurt you, Scott. Why would you think that?”

“You aren’t in love with me.”

“Oh my GOD,” Mitch yelled in frustration, and threw himself at Scott, capturing his lips with his own. 


	5. Lights Will Guide You Home

Scott’s lips were so familiar. They were soft and strong, and Scott took control immediately. Mitch always loved that.

Correction: Loves. Mitch always loves that.

His head was spinning. He wasn’t entirely sure how they got here. It had been years since Scott’s lips had touched his own. Yet they fit together perfectly, with hands exploring each other slowly, but with an eagerness that Mitch had been missing.

Mitch actively ignored any small bruises littering Scott’s neck and hips. He ignored the bile rising in his throat when he saw that each bruise was finger-shaped, as though Scott had been painfully grabbed. Now wasn’t the time to ask.

Scott pulled back suddenly. Mitch felt as though he would go into withdrawal. He reached for Scott again, but he leaned back. Shit. He had crossed that line, hadn’t he?

“I’ve loved you since we were 15.” Scott said, simply. “I just need you to know that I don’t think I can handle this if you are going to run away in a month, again.”

Mitch laughed. “15 is a bit dramatic, wouldn’t you say?” 

Scott’s gaze said otherwise. “Is it? Remember in the back of my car, in the high school parking lot?”

“We were teenage boys with no other options,” Mitch laughed, nervously. Scott looked back at him, sadly.

“You were the only option I needed.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know me. I hate looking needy. I hate looking… weak.”

“Why is expressing your feelings equated to looking weak?” Mitch asked as he pulled the taller man closer, snaking his arms around his middle. He placed a gentle kiss on Scott’s neck, right on his pulse point, for good measure.

Scott’s silence urged him to continue. “It’s ok to feel.” 

“I’ve always had trouble with that.”

“I know. You always want to look like everything is fine.”

Scott nodded. “No point in making other people pity you, you know?”

“Worry and pity are two completely different things. You scared me to death this week. What if… what if one of those guys had hurt you?” Mitch thought of Scott never returning home, and shivered.

_ Scott was slammed into a wall, seconds after shutting the apartment door behind him. The man bit down on Scott’s lip as he attacked his lips in an aggressive kiss. This was different. This man was taller and heavier than he was. A wall of muscle. This intrigued him. He moaned into the stranger’s mouth. The man’s hands gripped his shirt, eager to take it off. His spine throbbed as he was thrown against the wall, again. _

_ “You like that?” Jeremy asked with a growl. Met with Scott’s silence, he grabbed his throat. _

_ “What about this?” His words were cold, almost robotic. Yes, he liked that. He liked feeling constricted. He liked feeling a bit of pain. His heart was pounding. He wasn’t sure where the line of his comfort zone was, but he knew they were toeing it. _

_ The fingers tightened around his neck. He gasped for breath and tried to lean forward. The man grabbed him by the hips harshly and bucked against him, nearly knocking the wind out of him as his back met the cold wall behind him again. _

_ “You’re fucking beautiful.” _

_ That was enough for Scott. This man could do whatever he wanted. At least Scott was beautiful. _

Scott realized he had zoned out. He absent-mindedly placed his hand on the fading bruises on his neck. They were nearly gone now. “That’s the problem. I don’t think I cared.”

“Do you care now?”

“If you care, I care.”

Mitch groaned. Scott’s self-worth… where did it go?

“You used to like yourself.”

“I used to tolerate myself.”

“You’re far more than tolerable, Scott. At least, usually. This week you were insufferable, but that could have all been changed if you just let. Me. IN.” He poked Scott’s chest with each of the last three words for emphasis.

“I’m sorry.”

Whoa. Mitch had expected this argument to continue into the night.

“Will you accept the fact that I’m in love with you now, and that I’m not going to go anywhere?”

Scott looked into his eyes, as if searching them for a lie.

“I will hope and pray with my whole heart. And I will cherish every second with you. Is that okay?” Scott asked, hopefully. Mitch kissed the tip of his nose.

“I can work with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading!! Please let me know if you'd like to hear more from me. I appreciate all feedback! :)


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